Unnerved
by Bittersweet Romanticide
Summary: Daisy smirked and tweaked the young girl’s nose, setting the punch bowl down on the table. “Just remember, little sister, if you see a rubberband on the door: stay out.” AAML, slight Handymanshipping


Misty guessed she didn't mind being fourteen. Some things were nice, like a larger bust drawing a glance or two on the street and the growth spurts. Most things were annoying, such as the larger bust drawing a glance or two on the street and the growth spurts. Almost everything was a double edged sword, but she guessed every age was like that. All in all, aside from being a little more ticked off than usual once a month, being a teenager was a lot like being a kid. She still felt like a kid, and she hoped she would stay that way for a long time. Being a kid seemed like a lot more fun than being a teenager if her sisters were any example.

Worse than anything else, the hormones, the blood, the breasts, the random pain she got in her neck once in a while when she was going through a growth spurt, would have to be the boys, because she was terrified of them. She had always been a romantic, and she hoped she always would be, but it didn't change the fact that boys were _terrifying_. She had been flirted with before, and she wasn't ever sure had to respond. She was never even quite sure _what _flirting was until the boy either declared his love or gave her a compliment. It was cute when the kid was eight and gave her a flower, it was scary when the kid was her age and asked her out to the movies. One had even tried to kiss her, an action that had horrified her so greatly that she had not slapped but _punched _the boy across his jaw.

This annoyed her, not the punching, because she had quite enjoyed that, but the fear. She wasn't one to deny she could feel it; when she saw a bug or a scary looking creature or imagined a loved one dying a little shot of horror and fear plunged into her heart. She just didn't like being so scared of something she knew so well, and a fear that was so inconsistent. Tracey didn't scare her anymore than Ash and Brock, but a boy who just so happened to look a _little _cute in his bathing suit…that was the kind of thing that made her want to run for the hills and the kind of thing her sisters pushed her out in front of, almost as it sacrificing her to some pagan boy god.

She felt like they were sacrificing her to that god again, and she didn't even get to see what this one looked like.

Violet had been in charge of the outfit, which was much more modest than anything they wore. She wasn't the only one in the family who was protective, and when Misty turned to see herself in the mirror, she was slightly disappointed that any of the curves she thought she had vanished inside the light blue summer dress. It was simple, barely more than a tube with short sleeves and a red ribbon tied around her ribs. She was wearing white tights, something she was really ready to kill Violet for, and powder blue tiny heels, about the same color as her dress. It wasn't too bad, and Misty guessed she could have a little mercy.

Lily had been in charge of the makeup, and the hypocrisy was back and better than ever. Her sisters often put on so much heavy makeup that they looked like entirely different people. If Misty didn't have that little grain of kindness in her, that very tiny grain, she would have been tempted to say they looked like hookers. Her makeup was barely anything more than blush, lip gloss and a little brush of blue eye shadow. Lily claimed it was three toned, but Misty couldn't tell no matter how often she winked in the mirror.

Daisy had done the hair, which had mostly consisted of hour after hour of washing, drying, brushing and a hot, warped metal plate that Daisy called a crimper. She could only squeak and tell her how painful it was to have a scalding hot iron stuck to her head and melting off the flesh while the eldest went about her work. What was most annoying was when Daisy declared the crimper she was using was too tight, and Misty's hair would now how to be flat ironed and crimped again with a wider crimp. Considering the childish screaming, flailing argument Misty put up, it was a wonder they even managed to flat iron it.

Now it was party time, something Misty was not so keen on, oh no. She did not want to be involved in party time. She wanted to hide under her bed with some chocolate, magazines, and music until everyone had gone home. Mostly until _Ash _had gone home, because he was going to snigger about the dress all night.

"But Daisy! I know he'll be a jerk about it! I'm just glad no one knows the story about the last time I wore a dress."

"You mean when you stripped it off and ran around the town butt naked until we managed to take you down?" The blonde asked, grinning as she bit into a healthy sized carrot. "I dimly remember something like that. If you keep complaining I might bring that up tonight at dinner. In front of Ash."

"You're mean," Misty snapped, crossing her arms. "I don't see why I can't just go somewhere else tonight. The boys like you enough, at least Tracey does, so I don't see why I need to be here. Besides, it's probably not safe with Gyarados. He's still a little bad tempered, poor baby. He was really terrified when he evolved with no one around."

As the waterflower of Cerulean City walked to the kitchen, she snorted. "Yeah, like, terrified enough to rip into a seal."

"Oh, that was bloody," Misty muttered, shivering. "I'm with you on that. He needs to learn some manners or we'll all have nightmares. He ate the whole thing too, like we don't feed him or something! He gets more food than everyone else in the gym combined! And then he takes out a seal! I mean, he's a real sweetheart when it comes to people and he's got to be one of the greatest battlers I've ever had but still! What kind of crazy creature is it?"

"A horrifying beast," Daisy began, striding back with punch bowl in hand. "It's called an adolescent. I know one that terrorizes me every day."

"Ha ha," Misty said dryly, glaring at the older girl. "Can't you be serious?"

"I can be lots of things: an actress, a singer, a model, a wonderful older sister…" She trailed off with a laugh. "One thing I can't be is totally serious. I can't help it, little sister, I'm just too fun loving. That's why I was such a wonderful teenager. Since you, like, seem to have sworn an oath against humanity, you're, like, a totally horrible teenager."

"You weren't so great! You once threatened to kill yourself if I didn't act like a Psyduck at the dinner table when you were on your period!"

Daisy hesitated at the punch bowl a few inches from the table. "I'll, like, say this once and this will be the last time: though I was wrong in saying that, the correct response will, like, never, _ever _be 'Really? Well the knife is sitting right there. Knock yourself out.' That was going a bit too far. Don't you agree?"

"I guess," Misty sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides.

Daisy set the bowl on the table, smiling at the younger girl. "And I don't see what you've got to be so scared about. You don't have to play any of the kissing games if you don't want to. I think it's sweet that you're still saving that special first kiss. It really is, and don't let anyone tell you different. You could kiss any guy you feel like at any time you want, but you respect yourself and that's, like, way better. Just remember, little sister, if you see a rubberband on the door: stay out."

She leaned dramatically close and continued with a whisper, "Or you could find yourself a boyfriend and finish up that pesky first kiss once and for all!"

"Daisy!" Misty cried, turning bright red. "I'm not going to hide in a closest with a boy and make out with him! That's…that's…"

"Amore?" Daisy suggested with a snigger.

"Can't stay serious for a _second, _can you,Daisy?"

"I'm too carefree for my own good," She wrinkled her nose and giggled. "Seriously though, if you, like, see a rubberband stay out. I don't know what anyone's doing tonight, there's going to be a lot of people here and I don't want you to be, like, scarred for life or anything. If you want to go in and you don't want us to catch you, well, you've still got that purple rubberband you wear all the time around your wrist. So just put that on the door and everyone will leave you alone for the night! You have to tell me though, just because I'm your favorite blonde older sister! And yes, I'm your only blonde older sister, but that doesn't mean I'm, like, not your favorite!"

The younger one stuck her tongue out, jogging up the stairs despite the pleas, asking her to answer the door when her little friends showed up. All of which she ignored to twirl around in front of a mirror and try and figure out ways to make the itchy dress looser without taking it off entirely. It was an impossible task, and she didn't know how long she spent at it before, frustrated, she turned on her game system in the corner and went about her zombie killing business, which she was quite good at.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a sneaky sock footed boy crept up behind her and blew gently on the back of her neck. The controller went up in the air, crashing back down on her head to the sound of Ash's laughter. She fell sideways and scrambled to pull her dress down, realizing that the rules of shorts and dresses were completely different and not wanting to flash Ash at their first meeting since Arceus knew when.

"That wasn't funny you jerk!" She cried out, smoothing everything that could be smoothed. "I was slaying the boss and _you _made me lose. Jerk. I was trying to make it through the _whole _game without losing a single life. I'm going to have to start from the beginning now! I was almost done with the whole thing."

"I bought you the game, remember?" Ash retorted. "And I know that there's only an hour of game play, so you couldn't have been playing very long, could you? You can do it tomorrow! I'm only here for one night. The only reason I managed to get here was because I was going to visit my mom, and my mom stopped here and she's out shopping with Brock. So she's driving Brock n' me home and _then _we're taking off the very next day. We tried to get Dawn to come, but apparently Zoey told her about some kind of pokémon store a few cities over and she has to check it out. She's staying in a hotel tonight and meeting us tomorrow in Pallet. She said she's taking the bus. Did you know they had a bus between our towns?"

"I never really cared enough to check," Misty shrugged, getting comfortable on the ocean blue rug that covered her room's floor. "This is the first time you've been in my room, Ketchum. What do you think? I might need to redecorate. I haven't done it in ages. It looks like I'm still ten. It's kind of boyish too, with all the blue."

He looked around, wondering how Misty could stay in the room without feeling like she was drowning. The ceiling, the walls, the floor, were all blue. Perhaps creepiest of all was the effect of the paint, lightest at the top and darkest at the bottom with ripples of light in between, gradually fading into one another as if they really were sitting in the middle of the ocean. He bet Violet had painted it, but didn't risk getting it wrong and looking stupid. Instead, he chirped, "You're still ten in my head, Misty. I think it fits you fine! What would you change?"

"I'd bring back my pet hamster," She sighed. "He died while I was traveling with you. It wasn't really sad, but I kind of miss him. As for my room…I don't know. I like it, but it doesn't seem like the kind of room a teen should have. I don't have any posters or plushies or anything like that. It's pretty simple, except for the TV, but I don't spend a lot of time in here. I've been more concerned with decorating the gym, maintaining the gym. You know what I mean."

"No one ever sees your room," Ash said, getting to his feet and wandering around. "It's empty, yeah, but that because you've got a huge pool and pokémon downstairs! If I was you I wouldn't spend any time in my room either! I'd swim with pokémon all day! That'd be so cool! I wish I grew up in a gym like you or Brock or May! I don't know what I'd specialize in. It might have to be electric, because I know I couldn't give up Pikachu. I think she's under your bed. But it would be so cool! You could have a million pokémon, and it's fine because you've got the permit from the League!"

"I don't think we can have a million pokémon. Our pool isn't that big! We're only allowed to have as many as we can care for, and all of those pokémon are a lot of work. It's not just playing with them. The gym would fall into disrepair! Not that you'd notice. You'd be too busy taming a Legendary to notice," she giggled. "You haven't changed a bit Ash. That's amazing. I don't know why we lost touch. Can I blame you?"

He laughed. "You always do!" He hesitated in his pace, looking over his shoulder with a growing blush. Hands were slammed into his pockets and he managed to mutter a shameful, "But you don't think I've grown up any? At _all_? I don't think we're the same height yet but I mean…mentally? I guess you haven't seen any of my matches then."

"Ash," she said, rolling her eyes. "Of _course _I watch your matches! You compete in huge Leagues and you're my friend! It's actually a big celebration whenever you enter a League around here. I get the invite from Mrs. Ketchum and we all go over to Prof. Oak's place to watch the competition on the big screen! I've been watching, and I've noticed you've grown up a little bit. In some ways. In other ways you're still the same guy. Like how excited you get over anything about pokémon."

"Oh," he murmured, looking down. "Well, I figured that I wouldn't have when you-"

"Did I _say _I was finished?" She snapped, hands on her hips. "I don't believe I did, Ketchum. Here's the thing: you haven't changed the parts that don't need to be. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. You're a nice guy, happy, and there's nothing wrong with that. Tons of people _crave _what comes to you naturally. I like you for who you are, and who you're becoming. An intelligent, healthy, happy young man." She smiled and winked. "That's what I look for in a guy."

He flushed, and so did she.

"Well, that's new," he said, clearing his throat. "Where'd you learn-?"

"Sorry about that," she gasped, turning a deeper red. "I, uh, didn't mean it. My sisters have been flirting more and more, around me, and I've been picking it up. Sometimes it comes out, accidentally. When that happens I usually freak out because, uh, some guys flirt back. I'm not used to that because my sisters always got that kind of attention. It was new and weird but I can't stop doing it now! I mean, I can't tell the difference between flirting and talking anymore! Everything sounds like flirting if you look at it in a certain way. So, I mean, even our arguments could be look at as-no! That's not what I meant! Oh, ooh, this is such a horrible day. I _hate_ parties!"

Ash smiled nervously. "Yeah, I do too. Do you think we'd be able to sneak out the back door and go for ice cream or something? If you're really hungry I'll treat you to pizza."

"Thanks but no thanks," Misty chirped. "Sounds like a good way to catch up. It'd be just like old times. If I could, I would, but I committed to the party. I got my hair done. I had to wax my armpits which was _not _fun. They waxed my legs too. And eyebrows. It sucks to be a girl, you know that? You can just grow your hair out! I have to chop it all off!"

Ash smiled at her, then faded into a worried look. Because, surprisingly, Misty hadn't got what he meant. He had hoped, since her mind was already on flirting, that she'd take the jump between 'flirting' and 'go for ice cream' during which they would be all alone. Together, with her in a dress and him in a tux and no one around to see them if they decided to steal a kiss somewhere in the bushes no one would see them. And she didn't get it, the hypocrite.

"Well, you break rules all the time," he retorted. "Can't you break them again for me?"

She put her hands on her hips and smirked. "For _you_, bike-wrecker! Why are you so keen on taking me out to dinner? Even offering to _pay_! You can't possibly be the Ash I traveled with for all these years, the Ash I had to trick and bet into paying for all my meals. This is a new, improved Ash, who treats ladies like he's supposed to. Fancy, fancy. Where was this Ash when I followed you? Don't tell me you act this sweet to all the girls you followed after me." A few running steps and she was on her bed, bouncing up and down with her momentum. "Why is the nice boy begging me to break the rules?"

"I just want to spend some time with you," he murmured, looking down at his feet. "It's been a while and I never get to talk to you in private whenever we do. And whenever we get a moment alone you're never interested in doing something with _me_, you want to watch TV or video games or you want to make new friends with all the people I travel with. I mean, you were my friend first. Why are you hanging out with them more than me?"

She scratched her arm lazily, the tension rising in the room. "Huh. I didn't know you felt that way."

"I do," he said, carefully walking to the bed and sitting down next to her. "I want to spend time with you, and what's wrong with that? It's not a crime to want to spend time with your best friend, especially if you haven't seen her in a while. It doesn't mean you have to date them or anything."

"So, you want to talk alone, and you don't want to be interrupted. You want to catch up?" Misty asked carefully, feeling encouraged at his brief nod. Nervously, she pulled the rubberband off her wrist and made her way to the door opening it slowly and hooking the band around the outside door handle. It was stretched out from use and stood out nicely from the white door, easy to see and they certainly wouldn't be disturbed. She blushed, remembering Daisy's earlier words, but they were there to talk, not to kiss, and the idea faded quickly.

"I know it was my idea but," he chucked nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, "I can't think of anything to talk about."

She bounced on her bed gently and fell back, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling him back next to her so they both lay, looking up at the ceiling. Her hand reached up and flicked off one light switch, then flicked on another. Her room was plunged into darkness, only being illuminated by the star map now lit on the ceiling. "I missed the stars, looking at them, so I got this. I learned all the names of the constellations. I can tell you them if you want."

He grinned and pointed at the one directly overhead. "_That's _Polaris, the north star. I don't know where most of the constellations are, but I know the stories behind them. So, fair trade? You give the names and I'll give the stories?"

"I'd love that." She grabbed his hand quickly, squeezing and letting go, never once taking her eyes off the ceiling. Then, feeling her heart go wild in her chest, she named the first constellation and waited for his story.

* * *

Daisy wasn't "drunk". Well, she was a little tipsy, but she wouldn't say drunk. Tracey, however, he was drunk off his ass. He seemed to be quite affectionate when drunk, not forceful, but he had been going around all night, since his third drink at least, begging people to tell him where Daisy was and, if they saw her, to tell her how much he loved her. He also mentioned something about sex to one, but she ignored that, feeling much too happy from the liquor and his love to care.

She found him quickly, dragged him to the couch, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He was unsure, though just eager enough to press back. It didn't take long for her to determine that she was more experienced in that category, and pulled off his shirt. Frankly, she liked kissing boys without their shirts on. The pants could stay, her shirt could stay, but there was something that annoyed her about having to sneak her hand under fabric.

"Wait, Daisy, whatchya doin'?" The boy was starting to worry, as just a second ago he could _swear _he had a shirt on, but her hands pressed against his chest and pushed him into the soft sofa, and he understood rather quickly. "I don't do this. I'm probably not very good. I'm sorry if I suck, I don't mean to. And I'm drunk. You have to forgive me for being drunk. I didn't mean to be drunk but I think there was something in that punch that I didn't know about."

"Shh," she scolded, leaning over him and tapping their lips together a few times. "We're not, like, going to do anything, we're just kissing, sweetie. There's nothing to worry about. But, if you don't want to kiss, we can leave and we don't have to bring this up again. You've got the choice. What'll it be?"

He swallowed, giving her a nervous smile. "You could teach me to kiss, couldn't you?"

She dove in eagerly, never being the best with words, and instead began to spend her time teaching Tracey how to use his tongue, a lesson he probably wouldn't remember since he was drunk. It was probably better he was drunk. His movements would be less predictable, and since she was slightly tipsy herself, she couldn't _really _begin the work until they were both much sober and there was a less likely chance of someone walking in on them. Aside from all that, the drunk boy probably wouldn't do anything like this sober, and tomorrow she would have to deal with the apologies and wonder (while he was talking and she wasn't listening, of course) what would happen if she simply walking up to him and shoved a hand down his pants to shut him up. She would probably think that he'd have a heart attack and die.

It was a few seconds later when the other three sisters came in. The elder two were drunk and dragging along Ash and Misty, despite their protests, shoving them in a closet, locking the door, and slipping a rubberband around the handle. They then began to explain to Daisy that they had seen a rubberband on Misty's door and assumed the worst, breaking in to find them looking at stars. Believing this would get things done, they warned the two older teens on the couch to not open the door for "a, like, totally long time" and waiting around a few minutes making jokes such as "Is that a roll of pockets in your quarter or is Daisy happy to see you?" and other verbally challenged things that come with being drunk off your ass.

Daisy looked at the door, calmly walked over to it, and knocked. "Misty?"

"Daisy? Oh, thank goodness! You've got to let me out of here!"

Her sister sighed. "Not exactly. Like, I just wanted to say that you better not do anything more than kiss, and I'm making out with Tracey on the couch. So if you hear, like, any moans…yeah. You know what we're doing. I love you."

Misty began screaming and pounding on the closet door, and Daisy jumped back on Tracey, returning to their drunken kiss.

* * *

Misty had never once felt claustrophobic in her life, not _once._ Her mind began to run, wondering how a medium sized closest could _possibly _be smaller than the locker she had hid herself in (and gotten stuck in) while hiding from her sisters at the public pool, who were once again attempting to sacrifice her to some cute boy. This didn't make sense, after all, even with Ash the area was _much _larger. It wasn't huge however, because, dammit, they were touching.

"So…I don't suppose you've got a fun light switch in here?" Ash suggested jokingly.

"Shut up Ash!" Misty snapped, wincing at the sound of her own cracking voice. "Just shut up. I don't want to be in here any more than you do! I hate my sisters! They're always doing this! I can't tell you how many times they find out I've got a crush on a boy and they do something like this! Not that…not like I have a crush on you." Even as she stumbled over and replaced her words, they came out in a rush. "They just always do! Any kind of good looking boy! Apparently you're just good looking enough."

"I don't mind," Ash said carefully, thanking the dark closest for covering his blush. "We can talk wherever, can't we?"

She bit her lip. "Well, of course we can, Ash. But I don't have anything astronomical in here and I don't think I know the names of anymore constellations off the top of my head. I don't guess you do. Well, you might. You're smart sometimes, with random things. Like you being good with math. You were a great calculator, Ash. You really helped when we went out shopping. Easy to figure out which brand to buy and how much to buy on it with you doing the dividing. Plus you could add on the tax. You were like a human calculator. It was pretty cool." She gulped, pausing only for a moment and not letting him speak. "So, how's battling going?"

"I've told you all of that," he grinned, finding her shoulder and squeezing it. She jumped. "And why are you so nervous, Mist? It's just me. You know, _Ash_? From Pallet? I'm trying to be the World's Greatest Pokémon Master."

"I know that, Ash. Come on, you've told me all the battle stories but I'm sure they'll be more fun in person than over an e-mail."

"Well, you said something about your sisters setting you up." He curled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on them. "I don't get to do all that stuff, with the traveling. It sounds like you're getting to be a normal teenager. I can't watch TV. I barely ever get to go to the movies. I'm a busy guy, Misty, and I've told you all the stories. You've got to be sick of hearing all about me. So why don't we talk about you for once?" He chuckled. "After all, it's a pretty unusual girl who listens more than she talks."

"Sexist pig," she returned, positioning herself the same way as him. "How'd you ever get that way? When I left, you were a sweet little boy."

"Someone's trying to change the topic," Ash sang. "Huh, dodging yet another bullet. Someone doesn't like to talk about themselves. Since Tracey currently has your sister's tongue down his throat, Brock isn't here, and Prof. Oak is at the lab, I think I'm going to have to be the emotional guidance person here. See, I think your problem is you've built up all these fences, to protect yourself, and talking about your feelings or your secrets breaks down those fences. You're scared to let people in because, well, what if they break your heart? Then you're just wounded on the side of the road. Left to die."

"I don't have secrets!" She snapped. "Besides, everybody's got some defense mechanism. So what if mine's anger? Some girls don't like to cry. As long as I don't break anyone's jawbone I don't see what the problem is! Rage is a _great _way to reduce stress."

"Alright, Miss No Secrets," Ash smirked. She could practically see him lean forward in the dark, and if nothing else she could feel his breath on her cheek. "You know my real name's Ash, except it's got an 'e' on the end that's been dropped. But if you look at my birth certificate, that's what's on there. My question for you, Miss Misty is: What two names are printed on your birth certificate? I know it sure as hell isn't Misty Waterflower."

She mentally swore, wondering if he still had that uncanny ability to tell when his friends were lying. "It's Misty Waterflower, stupid. What else would it be?"

"You're lying."

Dammit. Apparently he did. She grit her teeth and clenched her fists because, well, he couldn't just get away with this! He couldn't be right, even if he _was _right. She had to prove him wrong. She _always _had to prove him wrong! Anything from finding a water pokémon who had a type advantage over electric to blowing a bubble gum bubble bigger than his. So, with a quiet, angry whisper she spat, "Rosemary Rains."

Ash blinked. "What the…could you repeat that one?"

"I _said_," she snarled, "Rosemary Rains. That's what's on the birth certificate. Waterflower is the family stage name. If I ever decide to join their stupid shows I'll probably pick up a flower name as well. I'd tell you what my sister's names were but you'd slip up and tell them and they'd kill me for letting to know. For all purposes though, I'm Misty, you got that? No one calls me Rosemary anymore!"

"How'd you get Misty from that?" Ash asked, not moving farther or closer, afraid moving might scare her off. "I don't see the connection."

"My mom used to call me her misty eyed girl, because my eyes were a lot lighter when I was little. They were this light, foggy blue. It sort of looked like I was blind, but they cleared up around six or seven. The name stuck though. I liked Misty better, and since no one in my family really goes by their names I just thought it'd be good to stick with. And it is. I think I look like a Misty, and I _am _Misty. Rosemary's the nickname, really. I think of myself as Misty."

"Who called you Rosemary?" Ash asked. She made a small, startled sound that urged him to continue. "You said no one calls you that anymore. That means that _someone _must have called you that. Since you think of it as a nickname, it's probably someone you're close to, or was close to. So who did it?"

She curled up tighter, not liking where this was going. "Maybe you ought to mind your own beeswax."

"Your dad, wasn't it?"

"You shut up!" She shouted viciously, leaping to her feet in the small closest. "So what if it was? If I said I don't want to talk about it I don't want to talk about it and that's all there is to it! You keep prying and…and it's not even fair because I'm on my damn period and I can't control what I say! Everything just comes right out and I'm hormonal and emotional and half the time I'm cramping up and heavily medicated or high off of chocolate and peanut butter and other comfort foods so I can't control it! My daddy called me Rosemary and I don't see why you care! He was the only one that did and it's a stupid name! I don't like it much anyway! I don't even miss him!"

He stood up, a lot calmer than she was, and his hands landed on her upper arms, clear from where the forearms crossed and fingers drummed with anger and worry. "You're nervous. I get it. I'm nervous too. But I've been learning a lot, and I've learned that you gotta treat people like you do pokémon. See, I tried to drag Pikachu along with rope and rubber gloves. And that may have worked, kept everything about the same and mostly under control, but we never would have made any progress. 'Cause, sometimes, you gotta just let it go and hope for the best. I had to take off the gloves and the rope and, well, at least good stuff happened."

"What are you ranting about?" She snapped, wishing her heart would stop its wild beating in her chest. The anger was fading fast, and it wasn't love or lust that was making it rise with emotion. It was…

"Nervous. That's all you are, Misty, and Pikachu was too. Pikachu fought with me, and hated me, and that's what happened during our journey. I was trying to put Pikachu in a pokeball, or tame it, and it didn't want that, so we had to compromise. We got closer, built trust, because I kept her out of her pokeball even though I kept trying to tame her. And, with you, well, we argued because a lot of times I was just trying to shove you in a category and, well, I guess I was kinda trying to tame you too in a way, 'cuz taming is sorta friendship, I guess. So there's certain things I've got to stop trying to do, like I'll never figure out what sort of category to put a romantic, angry, violent tomboy under, especially since I know how different everyone is from each other, and how you can't ever really fit. Misty, I don't want to make you fit anymore. I'm okay with you being different, 'cuz I'm sorta different too. Everyone is."

He grinned wider. "But I can't stop trying to tame you, because we're such good friends, and I want to get closer, just like me n' Pikachu."

She shook her head. "We're already best friends Ash, no matter how many best friends you've got. At least, _I _think we're best friends. What more could you want?"

Her eyes were still focusing in the dark, but her heart twisted in her chest when she began to feel his hot breath on her face, smelling like the non alcoholic punch they had drank earlier. His hands gently squeezed her upper arms, and his voice dropped low. "I…think I might want to be closer than best friends, Rosemary."

The name she hadn't heard in years sounded almost right on her lips, murmured in the same way her farther said her mother's name, or sometimes the way she had even heard Tracey say Daisy's. It sent tingles up her spine, and she barely had time to gasp at the effect a single word could have before his lips gently collided with her own. Heat flushed through her body and all her muscles seemed to clench, like she was bracing herself for racing against her sisters or the pokémon in the pool.

She couldn't deny it felt nice. She couldn't deny that she leaned into it. But she also couldn't, and was perfectly willing not to, deny that the just been kissed feeling faded off fast and she yanked away, her nervous response kicking the same as it did with that other, poor unfortunate boy who tried to kiss her, and she reacted the way she always did. Fast and violent. He fist slammed into his jaw bone (not amazingly hard), knocking him into the other wall with a loud crash.

The door was thrown open a second later, a very surprised Daisy lightning up a blushing Misty and the lower half of Ash, since the upper half was hidden in coats. He got up quickly though, not glaring at Misty, but grinning at her, then her sister, and asking, "How come you didn't open it when Misty was screaming?"

"We couldn't hear. There's a storm," Daisy said. "Turns out your mom's been here for a while. She found the punch too, so Brock's thinking about driving you home. He's only got his permit though, and I _am _under the limit and perfectly able to drive. He would only go to Pewter if he did. You can all crash here for the night, head off to Pewter, or I can drive you home. If I don't drive you home, it'll take a lot longer with the road conditions and I don't want to take any chance with the itty bit of punch."

Ash giggled. "Well, Mist has probably had enough of me and I've got no problem with Pewter for the night. Since some of Brock's siblings are cruising around Kanto for some good rock types, he's got a couple of beds open. I'll just let him drive. Hate to say it, but Tracey's told me rumors about the way you drive." He blinked. "Wait, where'd all the 'like's' go from your sentence?"

"They stay way for about an hour after I make out," She explained. "It's the weirdest thing."

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Misty, who was glaring at him, and smiled widely. "S'all right. Pikachu zapped me the first few times too. It's the whole risk thing. But I'll be back. You know how I am, trusting to a fault and I've got that whole courageous hero complex thing, and an ego to top it all off! My jaw bone isn't even broke! There's no way you're getting off that easy. You have to try a _lot _harder than that."

"Come on, Hercules. Leave her alone. She looks like she's about to have a meltdown."

Daisy began to lead him away, guiding him by his shoulders, but he infuriatingly called over his shoulder, "Bye Rosie!"

Misty gave an outraged cry, slamming the door closed and stomping her feet. Her mind couldn't help but flash to his voice a moment before. _"I…think I might want to be closer than best friends, Rosemary." _Her anger abruptly stop, and a hot shiver ran down her spine, running her tongue over her lips and tasting the sweet punch, her memory picking up the things she hadn't had time to think of before: the rough skin on his hands from traveling and his special scent that tangled with cheap soap and shampoo. All the things that made the romance novel worth reading, and they hadn't even gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

But those lips…

Another hot shiver escaped with a restrained, happy giggle, and Misty guessed she didn't mind being fourteen.

* * *

If you notice a resemblance between this and one of the oneshots in Slip of the Tongue, it wasn't supposed to be, but there are certain parallels. You can think of it as the revised version, I guess. And since, well, to be frank I've got nothing to say and I'm sick of ending all of these begging for reviews (either you do or you don't, me asking won't change a darn thing) I do this instead:

**The Rubberband Challenge:** Open to ANY pairing of ANY fandom. I'd like a oneshot centered around a rubberband. And don't think, if you're reading this a few years from now that it doesn't matter, do it anyway. It's a prompt! There's no prize, no nothing, but I would like a PM if you take it up. You get extra imaginary points if it's the Rubberband Rule versus just a regular rubberband. Good luck if you decide to take it and, really, tell me if you do!


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